


Birthday Surprise

by TheRogueHuntress



Series: HP Tumblr Prompts [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Animagus, Book 4: Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, Cat Harry, Draco Malfoy & Harry Potter Friendship, Good Draco Malfoy, Harry is a Little Shit, M/M, POV Draco Malfoy, Ron Weasley Bashing, Tumblr Prompt, just a little
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-03
Updated: 2016-09-03
Packaged: 2018-08-12 18:45:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7945234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRogueHuntress/pseuds/TheRogueHuntress
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tumblr Prompt 510 - The morning of his birthday, Draco woke to find a cat on his chest. </p><p>It was small and black, with green eyes that were strangely familiar, although Draco couldn’t quite place them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Birthday Surprise

The morning of his birthday, Draco woke to find a cat on his chest. It was small and black, with green eyes that were strangely familiar, although Draco couldn’t quite place them.

Draco blinked. The cat blinked back at him.

“Hello,” Draco said, then slammed his head back into his pillow. Talking to a cat. He was going bloody mad! How had it even gotten in here? None of his roommates had any sort of pet. He shoved the cat off him, and began his morning ablutions.

“Mreow!”

“Shit!” Draco jumped and swore, turning to find the cat was watching him shower. “Piss off, you stupid thing,” he muttered, summoning up his very best glare. The cat glared back, before turning, flicking its tail and stalking out in the haughty manner only cats had mastered. What a way to start his birthday.

Draco got dressed, and went about his day, trying not to think about his strange encounter with the cat. The first TriWizard task was in a week, and Potter had apparently cried off all his lessons, or so the teachers’ gossip said. He eavesdropped on Granger and Weasel, but it seemed neither of them were speaking to Potter, and hadn’t realised he was missing until McGonagall had asked them where Potter was. Useless!

As birthdays went, it was nothing special. There was cake, and presents, but Draco spent his life surrounded by cake and presents, and so was rather looking forward to some peace and quiet after dinner.

Draco eyed the chicken they’d been eating. He had a vague inclination to pocket some, and take it up for that cat. If it was still even there. He huffed, and tore a strip off, ignoring the strange look Pansy gave him. If the cat were there he would feed it. Not that it mattered.

The cat was still there, curled up on his bed, looking for all the world as if it belonged on Draco’s silken sheets. It opened one eye when Draco pulled back his curtains, watched him for a moment, then closed it again. Draco placed the chicken on the bed, and the cat’s entire demeanour changed.  Its nose twitched, then it stood and moved toward the chicken, sniffing thoroughly. Then it gobbled it down, curled up again, and began purring.

Draco grimaced, but lay back on his bed, and cautiously stroked the cat. It purred even louder. Merlin. What was he doing? But it was so soft… and he’d always wanted a pet.

“You belong to me now,” he decided. “But you’ll need a name.” The cat’s ears pricked, almost as if it were listening.

“Now… are you male? Or female?”

“Mraaaaaw!” The cat exclaimed. Draco cocked a brow.

“Male?” The cat licked his hand. Draco debated trying to check, but had no idea how to go about it.

“Male you are then,” he muttered, then grinned. “You can be Leo, like the constellation.” The cat licked his hand again. It stood, padding over to Draco, and then began kneading his chest.

“Ow! Fuck! Ouch!” Draco hissed, trying to extricate the cat from him without causing further injury. “Bad kitty! Bad Leo!” Leo folded himself onto Draco’s chest, and gazed at him smugly. Draco stared at it curiously, noting its strange markings.

“Meow,” Leo said.

“Bad kitty,” Draco muttered, but began petting Leo again. Leo began purring once more. They lay like that for several minutes, and Draco found he rather enjoyed the company of someone who only appreciated Draco for how well he could stroke them.

“Potter’s missing,” Draco remarked, almost to himself. (Because he wasn’t speaking to the cat, damnit.)

“Mreeaw?” Leo said. Draco bopped him lightly on the nose.

“Shush. Draco’s speaking,” he said, then snorted at himself. “Potter’s missing, and Granger and Weasel don’t seem to even care. Slytherin might have a bad rep, but none of my friends would have abandoned me if I’d gotten into the tournament. They’d be proud.” Leo licked his nose, and Draco grimaced, but allowed it.

“I knew I’d have been a better friend to Potter than bloody Weasel,” Draco said, and he was self-aware enough to recognise that he was being petulant.

“Meow,” Leo said, obviously agreeing with him. Draco closed his eyes, envisioning it.

“We’d have the best Quidditch team in the school,” he murmured. “Although I might have to play chaser.” He reluctantly admitted to himself that Potter was an acceptable seeker.

“I’d never let him do something as foolish as allow the entire school to know he was a parselmouth. I’d have found his every secret, and kept them all for him. I’d have protected him from murderous serial killers, and taught him how to protect himself. And I’d have never abandoned him for doing something as sneaky as getting selected for the Tournament, even though I suspect Potter didn’t actually enter himself.”

He placed a finger under Leo’s chin. “Did you?” he asked. Potter’s unique green eye’s widened, and Draco tapped the white fur outline of the lightning bolt on Potter’s forehead. “You’ve still got your scar,” he drawled.

In a flash the weight on his chest got heavier, and he was treated to a half-naked Potter looking up at him sheepishly.

“Hi,” Potter rasped. Draco snorted in amusement.

“You spend the entire day as an animagus sleeping on my bed, and that’s all you’ve got to say for yourself?” Potter blushed, and Draco found it annoyingly endearing.

“Maybe…”

Draco drew on all his courage.

“So. What do you say, Potter? Fancy making friends with the right sort, for once?” He offered his hand. Potter wriggled, freeing his own arm from where it had been trapped under him, and clasped Draco’s hand with his own.

“I think I can tell the wrong sort for myself,” Potter replied seriously, making Draco’s heart stop even though Potter was still clasping his hand. Then he grinned. “And there’s definitely nothing wrong with you.” There was a twinkle in Potter’s eye, and Draco was suddenly very aware that Potter was half-naked and lying on top of him in his bed.

“Great!” he squeaked. Potter snorted with laughter, and pulled himself up into a sitting position.

“Seriously, though Draco. I wish I’d accepted your hand four years ago.” Draco’s heart fluttered at hearing his name in Potter’s low voice.

“Damn right, you do,” he replied with a smirk. So far, his birthday had turned out just fine.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, feel free to comment! :D


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